


The Way of Kings

by JakeDov



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other, Relationship Negotiation, not everyone deserves to be happy, relationships take effort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 16:23:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22001236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JakeDov/pseuds/JakeDov
Summary: Time setting some 10 years after the books Darker Shades of MagicThe royal family prepares for the anniversary of a dark eventKell is pissed at AlucardRhy has a surprise...
Relationships: Alucard Emery/Kell Maresh, Alucard Emery/Kell Maresh/Rhy Maresh, Alucard Emery/Rhy Maresh, Kell Maresh & Rhy Maresh, Kell Maresh/Rhy Maresh, Rhylucard
Kudos: 9





	The Way of Kings

The Way of Kings

Alucard storms into the room, his royal red and gold cloak billowing behind him as if caught in a breeze. The fabric itself needs a moment to realize its bearer has halted in the door before comprehending it could stop waving, and with a moment´s delay it settles against the captain´s shoulders.  
„Who are you, and what have you done with my king?”

“You don’t like it?”

“ _Sanct_! Are you serious?” he asks, taking in the royal chamber. Despite himself, he is stunned nearly to speechlessness. “Wasn´t the Grand Hall enough?”

Early on Alucard Emery has made it a habit of surprising people before they could surprise him. He has always considered it better to stun the world than let it hurt him. He doesn’t like to feel unmoored, not even back when he was a pirate drifting through the Arnesian Sea.

“Why, what´s wrong, Master Emery?” The bearer of the crown flashes a mischievous smile his way, dark curls sticking out at odd angles. “Feeling out of your depth?”

Alucard has just returned to the palace after a day spent all over town but has considered running straight out again as soon as he saw the statues. Then it has hit him. Tomorrow would the day. _The_ anniversary. A cold shiver passed down his spine when he looked at the heroes of the Dark Week, their stone faces stern and cold. But Alucard knew about the two dozen statues now lined up in the Grand Hall, awaiting distribution. This is worse.

“This is a surprise,” Rhy beams. “I decided to have them made the same day. They have just finished. What do you say?”

They are at the top of the royal palace and it is nearly dark outside. The king of Arnes is standing in the middle of the room – a rock in an otherwise raging sea of people, a constant, steadfast and strong – and is in the process of shooing a bunch of unknown persons interspersed with the odd attendant out of his bedroom – a frightening number even for the former prince who is known for his debaucheries.

Alucard muses. Rhy has not always been that way. He remembers a time when the responsibility of the crown was new, when the pull of the world was strong. Rhy has almost faltered under its weight – not that he let anyone see. Rhy has always been good at playing parts and hide what was truly going on. He is proud that way. And _that_ , Alucard knows, has _not_ changed.

“Consider me surprised,” says Alucard, who doesn’t really know what else to say.

Four pictures in large gilded gold frames dominate the room, each one the solemn incarnation of royalty, propped up against one of the four walls. Kell, Maxim, Emira, Rhy. They are all there. Alucard notices the glitter coming off them and the smell of liquid paint. Rhy must have commissioned them this morning. The artists just finished. Alucard tries not to cringe under the combined gazes of the Maresh family. He notices a crease between Kell´s brows – it is always there, even in real life. Rhy looks the merry self he always lets his kingdom see, even if Alucard knows he has a bad day. Emira Maresh´s gaze is cold and still, her head just the tiniest bit inclined as if she is sounding out your secrets. And Maxim – as in real life the painter has made him direct and blunt, challenging Alucard with his hard glare. Suddenly feeling defiant, Alucard magically lifts discarded pieces of cloth lying around in a heap next to the door and covers the artwork with it.

He wants to go and kiss his king, but there are too many people in the room to watch.

“While I do admit these are beautiful works of art, I would like to remind you that I sleep in this room,” he says instead, and adds in a lower voice: “ _We_ do. And while I am quite content with what fate has endowed me with, do you think I can please my king with his family watching? And while we´re at it: what happened to the rest of the room?”

Additionally to the life-size portraits the whole room has been transformed. The walls have been stripped of their adornments and repainted in ribbons of silver, air and feathers. The billowing red and gold fabric that has wrapped the ceiling has now been exchanged for midnight blue, tiny silver dots haphazardly mottling the gossamer fabric. And while the royal emblem of house Maresh still adorns the far wall – red chalice rising before gold sun – it too has been remodelled. Now a silver feather is wrapped around the chalice, and both are framed by a beautiful dawn with all the colours between midnight and high noon on blazingly display.

“It´s a present. For you. Call me a romantic, but I wanted a change of scenery,” Rhy says, clearly trying to build up to something. “And I´m obviously not planning to hang them in here.”

Alucard chuckles. “I will most certainly _not_ call you that.” He waves at the doors. After years of serving the royal family the men standing guard have the good grace to pretend they don’t hear every word that is spoken in the royal chamber. Still, Alucard continues in a whisper. “At least not with them here to watch.”

“Why, what would you do?” Rhy rises to the banter almost too eagerly. He is usually very careful with showing affection in front of people. Alucard frowns. His king is nervous. But why?

But before Alucard can investigate he suddenly notices the patched quilt on the ottoman unfolding itself. He is moving before he is thinking, Alucard´s mind frantically crying attackers, _danger_! It has been a while since anyone threatened the Maresh reign but that doesn’t mean the Arnesians don’t know how to bear grudges. Alucard takes a leap and is between Rhy and the threatening fabric. He shoves the king who does not know magic out of harm´s way. Summoning his power, he hurls a wall of protective air around Rhy. It will not shield him, but it will slow down attackers. At the same time, Alucard´s other hand reaches for a heavy pouch on his belt. Meanwhile, the quilt continues to move and gradually unfolds itself into a person. A person in an ankle-deep rough-wool coat that looks like a ragged quilt. A person with a shock of auburn on his head and two mismatched eyes. A person who now sneers derisively.

“Really, Emery,” Kell derides. “Every time. Is that really necessary?”

Alucard feels his mood go sour. “You can´t really blame me,” he grumbles while the shards of glass he always keeps in the pouch on his belt for this very purpose chink as they settle – unused – back into his palm. “With that rag you´re wearing basically everyone will take you for a vagrant.”

Kell _tsks_ , impertinently shaking his head. “How can you protect him if you have trouble distinguishing friend from foe?”

“It´s very easy,” Alucard replies. “You´re not my friend.”

Now that the _Antari_ magician is sitting up straight Alucard wonders how he could have missed him in the first place. The _Antari_ doesn’t fit into the room´s new style any more than he fit into the last. Maybe Alucard has just been distracted. The king repainting his royal chambers in Emery colours certainly has thrown the captain off his game.

Swatting at the last remnants of the dissolving hurricane Alucard has hurled at Rhy, the king rights his crown – looking only a little bit dishevelled. Thoughtfully inspecting each of the paintings one after the other he strides through the room, slowly nodding to himself. The two painters in their spotted tunics, berets artfully askew on their heads, stand silently by, waiting for the kings´ judgement. When he is finished, without speaking a word, Rhy hands them a jingling heavy-looking pouch and the artists withdraw with deep bows.

“Alucard has proven more than just an excellent guard,” Rhy says at last, frowning at his brother.

Kell shakes his head, but Alucard isn’t in the mood for games. He opens his leather pouch and drops the shards back in it, before carefully refastening it to his belt. “You have your ways, _Antari_ , I have mine. Let´s leave it at that.”

Alucard pointedly turns away. Now is not the time to be bored by _Antari_. He has come to see his king, not the dark scowl his brother has for a face. He waves the prince´s argument away, musing on how the lights reflected in the gemstones of his rings play on Kell´s face.

“Stop that,” snaps the _Antari_ , glaring at him. Alucard feels better immediately.

Then, with a false smile and a nod Rhy dismisses his guards. “Arik. Tesh. I won´t be in need of your services tonight. You may go now.”

“Sir?” one of them asks. He seems nervous to be the centre of attention but much more horrified when asked to leave. By now, the room has emptied out and the five of them are alone.

Rhy – never great on patience – curtly jerks his head. “I am with the only _Antari_ who currently resides in this city and the magician who won not only one but two _Essen Tasch_ in the last ten years. What do you think you can protect me from that they cannot?”

“We are not to leave your side, sir,” says the younger guard with a nervous glance to his colleague, who nods vigorously and adds: “Isra´s orders. Too much is at stake, sir.”

Rhy sighs heavily, but before he can reply Kell has already risen. Face contorted as if the use of magic pains the _Antari_ , he encourages the chamber wall to reform itself in front of the two guards. The room becomes inconsequentially smaller, but Alucard notes how Rhy immediately breathes easier, his gait becoming lighter. He really is under a lot of strain, lately, the upcoming of the fateful anniversary of death only contributing to his discomfort. Alucard wishes it was in his power to console the king over his losses, but more than ten years after the Dark Week Alucard himself is still grieving. He knows exactly how Rhy feels.

The guards protest valiantly at being locked-out but with a flick of Kell´s wrist their voices are abruptly cut off. He must have worked a silencing spell. Drained, the _Antari_ drops back onto the chaise lounge. Alucard notices how he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, hiding blood. Rhy doesn’t seem to see, though, and Alucard doesn’t really care.

Now that the guards are dealt with, Alucard turns to Rhy and raises an eyebrow. He knows the sapphire he wears there will sparkle in the right light just as his rings do. He is aware that Rhy is attracted by all things exotic and at the same time hopes Kell hates it.

He doesn’t need his special gift to feel the mood in the room thicken. Nonetheless, the magic threading through Kell blazes brightly, angry as always, but Rhy´s goes very quiet all of a sudden, the strings weaving through his heart almost flattening out.

“So,” he says, faking levity. “Are you gonna tell me what all of this was about?”

“They don’t need to hear what I have to say. These days I feel like every wall has ears. And I am in need of privacy tonight.”

“You could always just get rid of them, you know. As you rightly noted, their presence is redundant whenever I am with you.”

Rhy shrugs his shoulders. “They were my father´s before they became mine. I am accustomed to their presence.”

“So you´ve said. But they don’t really serve a purpose. It´s unsettling. People should have a purpose.”

“Hear, hear,” Kell huffs. “Says the captain without a boat.”

Alucard feels rage uncoil inside his chest but he finds it just possible to ignore the _Antari_ if he concentrates really hard on the curves of Rhy´s jaw, on how the darkness pools around the sharp edges of his clavicle as the king paces the chamber.

“Isra insists. As did my father. At the very least they´re pretty,” concludes Rhy with a worldly-wise shrug. “Not as much as you, of course.”

Alucard grins. Now that they are basically alone he sees the guardedness coming off his partner layer by layer and gradually he feels himself wrapped in a warm blanket called love. Rhy´s love has always warmed him, and it has grown with the years. But despite his want for privacy fulfilled, the king keeps his distance. He doesn’t come to Alucard, doesn’t even look at him. Alucard feels that something is off, and it is maddening him not to know what exactly is troubling the king.

“But unlike them,” Alucard gestures towards the now-closed portal, “I _do_ come in handy every now and then.”

“Stop talking right now, or I´ll rip off my ears and scratch out my eyes,” Kell cries.

“You wouldn’t have to stay,” Alucard retorts. “I´m sure you can´t be less useful elsewhere.”

“I am always useful.” Kell scowls. “Why are _you_ here?”

“You heard the king,” says Alucard with a grin and finally slouches onto the couch. He makes a point to leave as much space between Kell and himself as the narrow piece of furniture allows. “I´m pretty.”

“Also, I summoned him,” adds Rhy, pensive. “Deliberately.”

“Why? This has nothing to do with him.” Kell says at the same time as Alucard asks “Why? Someone please tell me what is going on.”

An awkward silence descends on the room. Rhy doesn’t meet Alucard´s eyes. Instead, the king walks over to the sideboard and pours himself a drink. He doesn’t offer Alucard one. It should have been obvious then that something is wrong.

“Luc, please make yourself comfortable,” Rhy indicates the soft cushions, still refusing to look at him. “There´s something I need to tell you.”

Turning to Kell, his mouth draws into a grim line. “It has _everything_ to do with him.”

Kell huffs, but for once has the good grace not to reply. Alucard always assumed their relationship would brighten after Kell and Lila had taken their trip to everywhere. He thought they would get along much better once Kell came back, having blown off some steam. They may never have had much in common, but they both loved the king. They would both die for him; in a way Kell already had. It should have been enough. And yet. Whenever Kell looks his way Alucard feels the need to huff. Whenever Kell opens his mouth a high-pitched voice in Alucard´s mind screams _Punch me in the face!_ As it was, it was getting increasingly hard to ignore.

Kell, liking to bear grudges, and Alucard, tired of pretending even if he doesn’t care, the two of them have never come to terms with their old enmity. Alucard has never stopped disliking the blood magician. Kell has never forgiven him. Even though the insolent boy prince has grown into something resembling a slightly less annoying man prince with a family and responsibilities of his own. Alucard likes to think of himself incapable of envy but with so many parties courting the king, hanging from his coattail, vying for his attention, can anyone ever really consider himself immune to jealousy? Then again, maybe it was not him. Maybe the king´s brother just wasn’t accustomed to sharing?

Regardless, Alucard feels like he has tried. His relationship with Bard and their two boys is proof enough for that. She even wanted to make him their guardian. Kell resisted. It was the last Alucard tried to be nice to him.

Rhy´s deep shuddering breath wrenches him back into reality. Alucard´s heart aches to see his lover in distress, but he doesn’t know how to help him. The king braces himself against the furniture before starting to explain.

“First of all, I want you to know that I love you, Alucard,” the king says and Alucard is briefly satisfied by Kell cringing in his seat, pretending to throw up. “It is the furthest from my mind to hurt you with anything I say or do.”

Then, as Rhy continues he forgets to feel anything for a while. Another sigh is quickly followed by the greatest shock of Alucard´s life, dealt to him like a hard blow into his guts.

“But I am king. And as king, it is my duty to reign this empire. To guard and protect it to my best ability. I need to provide for all eventualities. And in doing so, I need an heir.”

After that, Rhy continues to speak for a while, his speech becoming faster and at the same time more agitated the longer he talks, but Alucard doesn’t really hear what his king says any more. The soft and usually so endearing voice is blotted out by a white static in his mind, swelling in volume with every new heartbeat making him numb. He picks up single words and phrases here and there – _heir… suitable mother... only until birth… consent… love_. But he doesn’t really register their connection. The rest of the revelation passes in a haze. Alucard has not moved an inch, but still feels like in just a few minutes his entire world has been shattered and now lies broken at his feet. As if it were fists, Rhy´s reasoning completely unmoors him. It gets increasingly hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to believe.

“Both Kell and I have tried to figure out another way to do this but neither has been able to think of anything else,” Rhy closes his monologue, swallowing hard. The knuckles still gripping the ottoman´s rail have turned white under the strain. “I don’t really want to do this without your consent. But there simply is no other way.”

Now, eventually, he tries to catch Alucard´s eyes. But by now, it is already too late.

He casts a quick glance towards Kell, then, whose expression is hard to read – not that Alucard cares what he might think. Indecision is not very kingly, which is why Alucard knows Rhy makes a point of always knowing exactly what he wants. Right now, he looks positively torn. Torn between love and duty.

But Alucard cannot help him now. He is torn himself. Torn between slumping in on himself, despairing. Of giving up, simple and sweet. Between walking up to Rhy – his king – and slap him in the face, hard, for springing this on him like that. And between leaving. _Just walk out the door_ , a voice in the back of his head whispers, _don’t turn back. You can do it. You have done it before._

But he also wants to stay. Wants to tell Rhy why this is a terrible idea. Wants to scream at him, wants to beg him. He wants to make Rhy feel what he feels. Wants to reason with him, wants to repudiate him. He wants to say so many things. He ends up doing none of these.

Instead, he finds himself turn bitter. “A king is not his crown, Rhy.”

“No,” says the king, the word hanging heavily in the silence of the room. “But he is his people. And my people _need_ me.” He tries to reach for Alucard´s hand, but Alucard is quicker and withdraws. Hurt flashes over Rhy´s features but he is quick to hide it, replacing it with the regal mask he has adopted from his late father. “They need me to look out for them. I have to be prepared.”

“What for?” Alucard challenges, but he already knows the answer.

Rhy seems sad, suddenly, broken. It is the same look Rhy´s father once gave Alucard, back when he was still an Emery and Maxim still the ruling Maresh.

“I am not going to last forever, Luc.”

Alucard pushes off the plush cushions – suddenly everything in this room is too plush, too make-belief, too artificial – and starts to pace.

“No,” he whispers. The air is stifled and warm, and with a sudden intensity he doesn’t understand he longs for the cold bite of a clean sea breeze on his face. “But I thought at least our love was.”

It is a cheesy thing to say, and he knows it. But it also is the truth, and he wants to voice it. He wants Rhy to understand why he can´t understand.

“You understand it wouldn’t be permanent, don’t you? The girl would stay with us only until the child is born. It is gonna be over in just a few months and then you can go straight back to pretending it is you who makes my brother happy.”

Suddenly, all three of them are on their feet.

“Kell!” cries Rhy. “No.”

Alucard rounds on Kell, numbness shifting to anger quicker than a stroke of lightning splits a log. He grabs the _Antari_ and shoves him, hard, into the wall. The curtains start to billow, the wooden posts of the bed groan angrily, several small pieces of furniture topple and the painting of Kell is smashed to the ground. Rhy has to clutch his crown to his head to keep it from being wrenched off, the light of the candles distributed around the room flickers in the gust that abruptly engulfs Alucard. Alucard doesn’t feel any of it. Doesn’t feel the wind making his hair stand on end, doesn’t see Rhy struggling against the force that is holding him back. Doesn’t wonder why the _Antari_ himself doesn’t do anything, doesn’t stop him. He only sees Kell, the instigator of all of this. He who has put this ridiculous idea in his king´s – in Rhy´s – head. And Alucard really wants to hurt the prince for this, wants to make him pay.

“ _You_ ,” he hisses. “Get out!”

Kell bristles. “You have no right to–”

“ _Kell_.”

The word is shorter than a breath, spoken barely above a whisper, but it still carries, even in the chaos that has descended on the room. Rhy once told Alucard what his father always said. _A king doesn’t need to raise his voice to be heard_. And he had been right. Kell easily shrugs off his hold, hurtling Alucard across the room with barely more than a grimace and a dismissive flick of his wrist.

"We are not done," he growls, voice full of hate.

Then he quickly crosses the room, squeezes his brother´s shoulder in passing, and slouches out banging the door behind him. Alucard sags against the cool wood panelling along the wall, all power and will drained from his veins as suddenly as it has flared.

“Luc…” Rhy whispers, reaching out.

“Don’t,” Alucard snaps, lashing out the only thing he knows to do now. “Don’t try to soft-soap me. You cannot buy my loyalty, much less my love. I am not your play-thing. I won´t stand for this.”

Rhy flinches. His eyes are big and bright, amber dissolving into molten honey in the candlelight. And just like honey they will stick to Alucard´s if he looks too deeply. He turns his back to Rhy, making for the door.

“Please, Luc…,” Rhy says, stepping closer, desperation now edging into his voice. “I explained.”

But Alucard is shaking his head. “No. This is a terrible idea, Rhy. I want no part of it.”

“ _Please_ … I just need someone to… I just need an heir. You and I, we are going to be its parents. Together. He need never know of his real mother. Nothing has to change. No one will ever take your place in my heart.”

Alucard gives a humourless little laugh. “Everything will change and you know it. If you do this,” he begins but his voice breaks and so he continues in a hoarse whisper. “If you do this, _everything_ will be different. I will be the third wheel in your life, Rhy. And I will know exactly whom to blame for that. So I´m gonna leave before the child comes. I´m sorry Rhy, but this is my last word. If you do this, you´ll be on your own.”

“Please don´t leave me. Not again.” Rhy´s voice is softer than honey when he continues. “I am not doing this to punish you.”

“Then why?”

Alucard does not feel the tears until they fall from the king´s face onto Alucard´s hand, which has balled into the fabric of the heavy regal robe he wears. When he looks up, the king´s face is wet.

“I´m doing this because I love you.”


End file.
